


These Stolen Moments

by 3hree6ix5ive



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:30:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3hree6ix5ive/pseuds/3hree6ix5ive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey is always running from something, but it's never been this much fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Stolen Moments

He doesn't remember the last time he did this – running, with no purpose, no direction, just running. Milkoviches are always running from something. Before today, Mickey thought he had run from everything. From angry parents, drunk brothers, store owners after shoplifting, from trash that wanted to beat his ass just because of his last name, and even the fucking police. When it comes to running, Mickey Milkovich has been fucking there, done fucking that several times over. Until today. Because this – running and laughing and enjoying it – this is unfamiliar territory. It bothers him that this doesn't make him feel uncomfortable, but he’s not surprised. Ian Gallagher is like a fucking bed bug. It was a total infestation before Mickey noticed Gallagher was under his skin. Even if he had the inclination, there was no way to get rid of him now. 

He’s not sure how far they run. They run until he feels the burn in his lungs and then they run some more. It hurts, but it feels good. Mickey thinks it feels like sex, only better, because he doesn't remember ever feeling this free when he’s fucking. Sex is just another thing to worry about. Sex with Gallagher, the way he wants it, the way he fucking needs it, could get him killed. Whenever they’re together, it’s always in the back of his mind that they’ll get caught by his father or his brothers and they’ll end his sorry excuse for a life and put Gallagher six feet under with him. Or worse yet, Gallagher will wise the fuck up and this time will be the last and he’ll be forced to go back to life before Gallagher when everything was motionless and gray and numb. 

In jest, Gallagher once suggested he join the track team, saying he must be a good runner since he keeps running from himself. It was before his second stint in the joint, a few weeks before Frank caught them. They had just fucked and Mickey felt peaceful, slack and pliable from the intensity of his orgasm so he let Gallagher get away with the insult. He lets a lot of things go where Gallagher is concerned. He can’t help himself. Gallagher makes Mickey want things, want a life, he never dared to dream possible.

He sees Gallagher duck into an alley and follows. Mickey would cut out his tongue before admitting this out loud, but he’s surprised he manages to keep up with Gallagher. Mickey may be used to running from things, but Gallagher has the fucking ROTC training him to run in fucking war zones. It shouldn't even be a contest but Mickey gets a couple steps ahead a few times, just out of Gallagher’s reach, which makes him laugh, though Mickey makes sure he’s never too far ahead that he can’t shove Gallagher out of the way and take the fall if anyone catches up to them. 

No one finds them. Not that Mickey’s not surprised since Gallagher has them dashing in and out of alleys. “We learned about eluding the enemy in ROTC,” Gallagher claims looking over his shoulder before quickening his pace. “You had enough of this yet?” 

Fucking ROTC, Mickey thinks before he gives chase. He’s not ready to stop yet. He loves the rush of adrenaline and the rush of something else he can’t quite place. This is the best he has felt in years, probably the best he’s ever felt in his life. Mickey knows their bodies and their shitty responsibilities won’t let them run forever but he wants to hang on to this feeling as long as he possibly can, so he runs likes his life fucking depends on it.

They stop running when they find a quiet spot under the L and Ian shoves him against a rusty chain link fence. Shoves him once, twice, and then once more before grabbing Mickey’s ass and squeezing hard. And Mickey, who’s been half hard since they ran into that alley after he took out Ian’s grandpa/whatever the fuck, can’t hold back his groan of pleasure. He’s usually quiet during sex so Gallagher’s eyes widen in shock and he stumbles for a moment before recovering quickly to squeeze Mickey’s ass again and grind against him. Mickey groans when he feels how hard Ian is, when he realizes how much Ian wants this, how much Ian wants him. 

Mickey wants more than he’s ever wanted in his life. Gallagher’s hardly touched him since that thing with Angie and Mickey is aching for it. He doesn't get why Gallagher’s so pissy about it when he sticks his dick inside that grandpa, that fucktwat from the ROTC, and probably a bunch of others Mickey doesn't know about. Angie’s a chick; she means nothing to Mickey. No woman will ever mean anything to him, not that way anyway, and Mickey doesn't understand why Gallagher doesn't wake the fuck up and get it. 

Mickey grinds back. He’s not usually this aggressive and Gallagher’s gasp is the sweetest sound Mickey has ever heard. Mickey wants. He wants everything which is fucked up because what fucking right does he have to want so much when he has fuck all to offer back? 

He closes his eyes and pulls Gallagher closer by grabbing his neck and Gallagher presses so close that Mickey can feel puffs of breath at his neck. It feels so good, so intimate, and Mickey shudders so hard that he has to grab Gallagher’s shoulders for support. Gallagher takes that as acquiescence, of course the shithead does, and presses three wet kisses into Mickey’s neck, before flipping them around and shoving Mickey’s pants down. 

Gallagher fucks him harder that he’s ever fucked him before. The fence rattles and at one point Mickey is certain it’s going to fall over under the force of Gallagher’s thrusts. Mickey thinks he should slow things down or stop Gallagher so they can move somewhere else, but _fuck it_ he doesn't want to ruin the fucking moment and just pushes back with hard thrusts of his own. He knows he’ll feel sore as fuck tomorrow, but he doesn't care. He wants that burn. He fucking craves that burn. 

It feels so fucking great that Mickey doesn't give a shit that he’s begging for like a cheap whore. Nothing has ever felt this good and he means to tell Gallagher that, to give him something to hang on to so maybe he won’t go back to fucking that old fuck, but he can’t get his voice to catch up with this thoughts. So, instead, he wraps his hand around Gallagher’s wrist and squeezes and hopes like hell Gallagher catches on. 

For a moment, he thinks that Gallagher is too caught up in the fuck to get it and feels the pang of disappointment, but then Gallagher wraps one arm around his waist to pull him closer and Mickey swears he feels a shift in the air. He comes; he falls apart. He can’t hear anything, he can’t see anything. He’s only aware of Gallagher’s dick pulsing inside him, of a strong hand gripping his hip and another stroking his neck gently. 

Later, after they recover, they make their way back to the South Side. They sneak off to the baseball field and stretch out by the pitcher’s mound. Mickey on his back, using his shirt as a pillow, and Ian lies beside him. They pass cigarettes back and forth and stare at the familiar thick cloud of smog that always hovers above their heads.

They've hardly spoken since Mickey showed up and took out that old fuck. Mickey’s not one for talking, but he’s not used to this from Gallagher. The only time Gallagher shuts up is when they’re fucking and this makes Mickey uncomfortable, like he should apologize, but he’s not sure what he needs to apologize for. 

“How’d you meet him anyway?” Mickey finally asks, when he can’t take the silence anymore. 

Ian huffs out a laugh. “Monica.”

“She was fucking him and now you’re fucking him?”

“No dumbass,” Ian laughs and rolls his eyes. Mickey should punch him for that but Gallagher’s finally looking at him with something like affection instead of the looks he’s been shooting at him since he fucked Angie. 

“So what then,” Mickey says. It isn't a question. 

“She took me to a gay bar.”

“She was okay with that?” Mickey shakes his head. “Man, she is fucked up.”

“Fuck you.” Ian punches Mickey in the shoulder. It’s a hard punch and Mickey knows he’ll find a bruise there tomorrow. He doesn't care about the bruise, fuck knows he’s had his fair share but he feels anger pouring off Gallagher. It comes of nowhere and it throws Mickey, especially when Ian stands, hovers over him, hands clenched into fists. It’s a fighting stance and the Milkovich in him wants to stand up and bash Gallagher’s face in. Mickey stays put though. He’s not sure why. “My family doesn't care that I’m gay Mickey!”

“Would you keep your fucking voice down?” Panicked, Mickey sits up quickly and scans the field. “You can’t go around yelling that out over here! Do you want to get fucking killed?”

“You’re the only one here Mickey! You’re the only one that has a fucking problem with it. You’re the only person who knows and fucking hates me for being gay.”

That gives Mickey pause. “That’s not what I meant, asshole. I don’t care that … I just meant that it’s fucked up that she’s okay with you fucking a dude who’s older than she is. That’s not … shit I dunno, that’s just not normal.”

“OH.” 

“Yea, fucking oh,” Mickey glares and flicks his lighter, “are you gonna sit the fuck down or you still wanna kick my ass for something I didn't say?”

“Sorry.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Mickey glares. He’s pissed that after everything Gallagher could think he hates him. If he hated him for being gay, Gallagher would be six feet under. 

“She didn't know,” Ian whispers as he sits.

Mickey looks up. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Monica didn't know about him. She took me there once. I tried to go back after she split but they wouldn't let me in. I met him outside then. He took me inside.”

“Oh, he took you inside, did he?” Mickey winks and then laughs when Ian smirks. Gallagher isn't pissed at him anymore and he feels relieved. He lies on his back again, arching, stretching and enjoying the feel of the gritty baseball field on his skin and the stale air in the back of his lungs. 

“Do you ever miss your mom?” Ian asks. Mickey looks over. Gallagher is lying on his side, closer than he was before. It feels intimate and Mickey forces himself not to look away. 

“You can’t miss what you never had in the first place.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself and Mickey swears under his breath. He knows Gallagher will take what he said and run with it. 

The shithead’s grin almost blinds him. “You said missed me when you got back.” 

Mickey lights a cigarette and takes a deep breath. He knows what Gallagher wants to hear, but Mickey’s going to let him sweat it out for saying that shit about hate. “Yea, well, fuck, you’re alright I guess.”

“Just alright, huh?”

Mickey snorts. “What about you? You miss your mom?”

“Sometimes,” Ian pauses, “sometimes when she’s on meds and not acting like Monica she seems like a real mom, you know? But then she goes off the meds or does something fucked up like throw a fit at the recruiting station because they wouldn't let me enlist.”

“She fucking did what?”

“Someone from West Point came to the house and tried to get Lip to apply because of his grades. I was pissed about it. She dragged me to enlist but they told me to come back when I’m older and done high school. She started screaming and yelling. It was fucked up.”

“I thought you were done with her … after last time.”

Ian nods. “She said she was better. I _wanted_ her to be better but she’ll never drag her head out of her ass long enough to be a mom. We’re all better off without her. We’re better off without both of them.” 

“You okay with that?” 

Ian shrugs. Mickey knows it’s not passivity. It’s just Ian knows his only choice is to be okay with it. “I just wish it would be different for Debs. She’s starting to hate Frank as much as the rest of us and she used to think he was the greatest thing ever.”

Mickey nods. “S’like Mandy. I think she had this idea of him in her head, like one day he would snap out of being a fuck up and become one of those gay ass TV show Dads that refuses to let her out of the house because her skirt is too short like he’s gotta keep her pure or some lame shit like that. She was about eight when she figured out that we got a shitty deal and it would never get better. Just like that she lost all fucking hope for a better fucking life. My little sister. It was rough, man.”

Ian shuffles closer and squeezes Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey sighs and looks around before leaning into it. “One last fuck before they come for me, Firecrotch?” 

“No one’s coming for you Mickey.” Ian’s voice is low and husky and it goes right to Mickey’s dick. 

“I fucked my probation … again. It’ll be a long time before they let me out this time. Good behaviour won’t matter shit.”

“Thought you said they let you out early because of over-crowding.”

“What the fuck ever,” Mickey pulls away from Gallagher’s arms. “Come on. Fuck me. The cops’ll be here soon.”

“He won’t say anything, Mickey.”

Mickey laughs. “You forget I've been here before.”

“This about Kash again?”

“He didn't shoot me over a fucking Snickers bar.”

“He won’t say anything.”

“You’re so fucking sure huh? What are you gonna do? Offer to keep fucking him? You gonna shove your dick down his throat to keep his mouth shut and fuck me on the side? That’s not how the world works Gallagher! He’ll do anything to get me out of the picture so he can have his _Gingersnap_ all to himself.”

“You mean like how you beat the shit out of him because you’re jealous?”

“Not the fucking point.”

“Mickey, he won’t say anything because he’s Jimmy’s dad.”

“Fiona’s boyfriend’s dad? Jesus Christ Gallagher.”

“I didn't know he was Jimmy’s dad until after.”

“You kept fucking him. When you found out doesn't make a fucking difference.”

“Well you’re still fucking Angie, so you don’t get to call me out for who I fuck. At least I know what I want.”

“I KNOW WHAT I FUCKING WANT! I DON’T GET TO FUCKING HAVE IT!” Mickey punches his fist into the ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. “Just … why didn't you tell me who he was before?”

“Right. Because that would've made a fucking difference. You’d still be fucking jealous and you still would've kicked his ass.” 

“Anything I did to him will be fifty times worse when Fiona finds out. Everyone knows you don’t fuck with her kids.”

“You can’t say anything Mickey. He could go to jail.”

“Kid fucker fucking deserves it.”

“Mick,” Ian leans close and whispers in Mickey’s ear. “Promise me you won’t say anything.”

“What if he—.”

“He won’t,” Ian interrupts. “Have a little faith.”

“People like us don’t have time for shit like that.”

“Then believe me. Trust me, please, Mick.”

Mickey sighs and presses their foreheads together. He can’t refuse Gallagher anything when he says his name that way, reverent, like a prayer. “It’s just that … this is fucked, Firecrotch.”

“When has anything about our lives not been fucked? We just gotta trust that the people who say they’re watching our backs won’t let anything happen to us. I promise I won’t let you go down for this shit Mickey.”

“What will you let me go down for?”

Ian smiles that private smile Mickey hopes is just for him. “Let’s go to the dugout so I can show you.”

“Gotta catch me first Firecrotch.” And with that, Mickey takes off running, laughing as Gallagher chases him up and down, all over outfield. He’ll let Gallagher catch him eventually and drag him off to the dugout to fuck him into next week, but until then, he’ll enjoy the thrill of the chase when nothing matters, but him, Gallagher and the joy of these stolen moments.


End file.
